


I'm Looking Through You

by DemonDean10



Series: The Saga of John and Brian [4]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Angst, Concussions, F/M, High Brian, Hurt John, Hurt/Comfort, Parties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-25 01:12:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17111642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonDean10/pseuds/DemonDean10
Summary: Brian gets high at one of his parties and doesn't take kindly to John's unwelcome presence. He does something he'll later regret.(Not that dark)(yet)





	I'm Looking Through You

The entire party was a drag. At least that’s what John thought. The group was still celebrating the high of Sgt. Pepper’s release and were all supposed to be taking a break. But paul had called them down to the studio this week, wanted to work a new song that still didn’t have a title even after days of working on the arrangement. 

 

Then Eppy had invited them all to a party, John hadn’t really wanted to go. He liked being in his house, shut away from the world and high on LSD. Well,  not ‘liked’ more like ‘used to.’ He was no longer comfortable in large crowds, if he ever had been, but Eppy had convinced him with promises of a wild night. 

 

Except Eppy was nowhere to be seen now. He’d greeted the band at the door, pulled John away for a kiss, then disappeared. The singer just hoped that he wasn’t getting high off his arse. If someone were to call John an addict he would refer them to eppy, the man popped all kinds of pills like candy. 

 

He saw a bird smiling at him with hooded eyes and he rolled his and turned away. He wasn’t in the mood to talk with some girl that just wanted to have something interesting to tell their friends. Two points if you see him, six if you get an autograph, ten if you talk to him, and twenty if you fuck him. Yay.

 

He took another sip of his drink and made a face, Eppy’s taste sure had gone down, hadn’t it? 

 

Speaking of his lover, John looked around for him but found only Ringo playing cards and clearly winning, George talking about meditation with some people that looked like they would rather be anywhere else, and Paul charming some girls. He frowned, where was Brian? 

 

He walked away from the main room and into the hallway, some couples were going at it and a couple of guys were snorting some powder. He heard some laughter come from upstairs and followed it. 

 

It was unusual for Eppy to let people into the upper floor, he must be in a really good mood tonight. 

 

He left his drink on a table and walked up the stairs, “Eppy?” He asked into the air. The air did not answer but laughter could be heard coming from the study.

 

He went to open the door but found it locked, “Brian?” He knocked, “It’s John.”

 

For a moment there was no answer but then the door gave way. An unfamiliar face appeared, “Yes, what do you want?” A short, fat man sneered at him. 

 

John frowned, did this man not recognize him? “Move it, mate. I need to talk to your host.”

 

But as he went to enter his path was blocked again. “This is by invitation only, boy.” The man said.

 

John smirked, “Oh, believe me, I have an invitation.” He pushed past the man. 

 

Inside the study he found a group of people laughing their asses off, some taking pills and other snorting a powder like crazy. He sighed, Brian’s drug intake was getting out of control. John spotted his lover at the very end of the room, he marched towards him and threw himself next to him on the sofa.

 

He put an arm around Brian’s shoulders, “Hello honey!” He said with a radiant smile.

 

But Brian was not amused, he frowned, “John, what are you doing here?” 

 

The singer sighed, “Well, I was lonely. All alone at the party downstairs.” He leaned against the older man, “You hurt my feelings.”

 

Brian looked at the people around them, they were staring, hardly amused at the young man’s behavior. He stood up and grabbed John. “Listen, I’m sure the rest of the boys are all waiting for you downstairs, I’m entertaining some guests right now.”

 

John was growing upset at this treatment but he decided to treat it as a joke. He made himself heavy and fell against Brian’s chest, “Au contraire, mon cher. They’re all very happy without moi. Aaaannd, I’m a guest too, Eppy.” He licked his lips, “Why don’t ya entertain  _ me _ ?”

 

Brian still didn’t break and with a strong grip he guided the singer to the door. “Later, John.”

 

Seeing some of the people point and laugh at him, John fumed. He refused to go through the door, “No, Brian. I only came to this stupid party because of you, you owe it to me to spend time with me.” Perhaps he’d had more alcohol that he’d thought, he would have never let himself sound so needy sober. 

 

Brian sighed at him, why couldn’t John leave him alone for one day? The manager had been having fun, he’d gotten a new supply of drugs and had wanted to share them with his friends. And John, for all his great qualities, did not fit in with the crowd. Had he been invited, he could have been complaining the whole time. 

 

Now, after having taken more than he should have (not that he cared) Brian was angry at his appearance, “Go back downstairs, John.” He said in a low voice, embarrassed at the looks he was getting from his guests.

 

Feeling like a scolded kid, John glared, “No, Brian.”

 

“John, I mean it. Leave.”

 

Inside, John felt as if he’d been punched in the gut, Brian had never acted so cruelly with him. He just wanted to feel wanted, he had been lonely for weeks now and Brian hadn’t noticed. Or maybe he had, and he just didn’t care. Maybe Brian was tired of him, maybe John was getting thrown away. He put on a brave face, “Make me.”

 

And then, the unthinkable, Brian did. Angry and acting with a meddled brain, he pushed the singer out into the hallway and slammed the door after him. He turned to his guests and forced a smile, not really thinking about what he’d just done, “My apologies, ladies and gentlemen. Shall we continue?”

 

His drunk guests simply cheered in response. 

 

Outside the room, John was on the floor. His glasses had fallen away and he had no chance of finding them in the darkness. His head had slammed against a table corner and he wouldn’t be surprised to find it bleeding, it was hurting like a bitch already. What the hell had just happened? Had the man he loved just thrown him out? 

 

His body aching, he started to crawl around looking for his glasses. He couldn’t find them and he started to panic. He could hardly see his palm in front of him, how was he going to make it back home? After another five minutes of crawling around the highway like and idiot, John decided to go into Brian’s bedroom. Their bedroom. He stood up with a muddled head and found trouble walking, but blamed it on the alcohol.

 

He hit the door frame as he walked in but he managed to close the door behind him just fine. He hastily took off his jacket and threw it to the floor. Feeling betrayed and afraid, he jumped into the bed and crawled under the covers. They smelled like Eppy.

 

And suddenly, he was crying. Quietly sobbing under the blankets, the Beatle curled himself up. How could Brian treat him like that? Was he done with John? Would he get kicked out tomorrow? And with those thoughts, the singer met an uneasy sleep.

* * *

 

Brian woke up to find himself laying next to his desk, a passed out woman’s foot next to him. He sat up and groaned as a headache hit him. Christ, what had happened last night? He’d been drinking with some friends, popping some pills...then John had shown up. He looked around, where was he?

 

The manager stood up and sighed at the mess around him, he’d deal with it after finding his lover. But first, he looked in his pocket and smiled as he spotted a little blue pill, that would give him energy.

 

He walked out into the hallway and headed towards his bedroom, intending to change into cleaner clothes. But a crunch under his foot made him pause. He looked down, were those John’s glasses? Had he dropped them? No, he wouldn’t have. John hated being unable to see, especially now he wore his glasses all the time. 

 

He picked them up and cursed at himself. Brian walked towards his room and entered. The curtains were drawn and there was no disturbance in the room, except for the bed. He let out a sigh of relief when he spotted John’s hair from beneath the covers. 

 

He walked towards the singer and sat down beside him. He looked at his clock, it was late now, almost eleven. He couldn’t believe he had slept for such a long time, but then again he must have gone to sleep at seven at the earliest. 

 

He put a hand on John’s cheek and gently caressed. “Johnny, it’s time to wake up.”

 

There was no response from the singer. 

 

He chuckled and tickled his neck, “Come on, John. It’s time to wake up.”

 

Still no response. 

 

Brian started to get worried, his lover was an incredibly light sleeper, it made no sense that he wouldn’t wake up. He shook the singer, “John?”

 

Finally, the singer’s eyes opened. He looked around him with narrowed eyes. 

 

Brian smiled, “Morning, sleeping beauty.”

 

John just looked at him, “Whou arre..whou…” He sighed, his tongue felt too heavy for his mouth.

 

Brian frowned, “John, it’s me. Brian.” Normally, he’d hand the singer his glasses but since that wasn’t an option…

 

John’s head was banging, he stared at the man above him for a few minutes. “Bree-Bryan?” He closed his eyes with strain.

 

The manager slowly sat John up, “Yes, doll, it’s me.”

 

As soon as he sat up, John got the awful urge to vomit. He could barely angle his head in time for the vomit to hit the floor and not the bed or Brian.

 

Brian moved away with a gasp, “Christ, John! How much did you have to drink last night?”

 

The singer looked at him, he shook his head many times. “I, I...I doun, I dooun’t…” He frowned, looking upset at not finding the word, “I doun’te re, re..re-”

 

“Remember?” Brian asked, concerned. 

 

John sighed, he had no idea. 

 

His lover looked at him with pity, “Here, let’s clean you up.” He helped the younger man stand up, but as soon as he did he fell and Brian had to catch him. 

 

John’s head felt heavy, everything was spinning. He didn’t even notice when his lover picked him up bridal style and carried him to the bathroom. He was deposited on the toilet seat while Brian filled the large tub. 

 

Then, his ears started to ring. First low but then the noise grew and grew. He groaned and his lover turned to look at him, “John?”

 

John shook his head and covered his ears, he was feeling nauseous again. What the Hell was wrong with him?

 

Brian was growing very concerned, this was worse than a hangover. “Let’s get in the tub and I’ll call a doctor, okay?”

 

John didn’t respond. But Brian guided him into the tub, after undressing of course, anyway.

  
  


“It appears Mr. Lennon has a concussion.” Dr. Roberts, a close friend of Brian’s, said. He had not questioned why said Mr. Lennon had been naked in his manager’s bathtub, only checked over his behavior. 

 

John was currently sitting in Brian’s bed, his face green, wrapped up in one of his lover’s bathrobes.

 

Brian frowned, “Did you get into a fight yesterday, John?”

 

The singer didn’t appear to hear him well, he only tilted his head. 

 

“Delayed answers to questions is to be expected,” Dr. Roberts explained, “As is not remembering the traumatic event. At least at first.” The doctor looked at him, “Do you not remember anything?”

 

Brian shook his head, he recalled seeing John at his private party, which was be odd considering it wasn’t his scene.

 

John licked his lips, “I was, hmm, at a party.” He laid down and snapped his eyes closed.

 

The manager nodded, “Yes, John. At my party.”

 

The singer curled himself up, “Ye, egh, Bryman..ye-” He was interrupted by his own need to hurl, luckily there was a bin near him. 

 

Brian was quick to move to comfort him, he held John near him and whispered comforting words in his ear.

 

The doctor helped John wipe his chin. “Yes, Mr. Lennon? What happened? Do you remember anything?”

 

John whimpered at the light coming in from the window and closed his eyes. “Ye, he...Bryman, he-Ugh!” Why couldn’t he find the word?? He decided to act instead, he mimicked a shove.

 

Brian and the doctor frowned.

 

“He...pushed you?” Dr. Roberts asked. 

 

Brian was about to answer with an offended remark when John nodded frantically. The manager gasped, he turned to the singer. “Why are you saying this, John? I would never-”

 

“Well, Brian, something happened.” His friend answered, looking disappointed. He looked towards the pained young man and gently asked, “Do you want to go home?”

 

John stared, his tongue too heavy for his mouth. 

 

“Take your time.” The doctor continued, ignoring Epstein’s appalled look. 

 

Finally, John spoke, “Yeish, yes I...home.”

 

Brian moved away, letting John fall to the bed with a groan. “I can’t believe this.” He was angry, he would never hurt John. It was outrageous. 

 

The doctor was wary, “I’ll take him home, Brian.”

 

“He’s better off here!” Brian yelled, not noticing the disturbed whimper coming from his lover.

 

“Clearly he’s not, Brian.” Dr. Roberts answered and moved to help John up, who’d just vomited again. 

 

The singer held his head in his hands and said nothing.

 

Seeing his lover look so upset, Brian calmed down and hesitantly moved aside. He touched John’s shoulder as he stumbled by. “John, if I did anything...I’m sorry.”

 

The singer looked at him with narrowed eyes, “..Brian, yeu...yeu,  _ did  _ doo,” He exhaled in frustration, “Sooomee...soume, soumethin, soumethiiingg.” John felt irritated by his own inabilities and exhausted by all the comotion. 

 

Dr. Roberts led him away without a glance back at Brian, who was left standing covered in guilt. 

 

The doctor led John to his car and put him down on the backseat, “Are you okay?”

 

The singer nodded and sighed in contentment at the soft seats. 

 

“Where do I take you?” Roberts asked, “To your house, or?”

 

John shook his head, “Paul.” He answered, “Paul. Caa, caveindish, Cavendish.”

 

The doctor was well aware of Cavendish’s location, “Alright, then.”

 

* * *

 

Paul opened the door to a baffling sight. A man he vaguely knew from one of Brian’s parties was holding up a drunk looking John Lennon. “Er, hello?”

 

Roberts smiled, “Hello, Mr. McCartney. I’m Dr.Roberts, we’ve met before.”

 

Remembering his manners, Paul smiled back, “Oh yes, of course, Dr. Roberts!” He had no clue who Dr. Roberts was. He nodded in John’s direction, “Is he drunk?” He sighed.

 

Dr. Roberts looked down, “No, he had a concussion. I believe he got into a fight with your manager.”

 

Paul frowned, “Brian gave him a concussion?” The notion was hard to believe, the two were lovers for God’s sakes. But then again, he’d never really asked much about the relationship. Maybe this sort of thing was commonplace...No, Eppy wasn’t like that, he wouldn’t hurt a fly. Unless he was high, and last night he probably  _ had _ been high. Shit.

 

John raised his eyes, “Hey, Paul.” He voice was blurry, his tongue still heavy and his head killing him. 

 

Noticing the weka tone the younger man frowned, “I’ll take him, doctor. Thank you.”

 

“Of course.” Dr. Roberts said as he passed John along. “Here, take this for his head. I recommend to let him sleep and rest but keep a close eye on him. And I believe he lost his glasses.”

 

Paul nodded, “Alright.” He took the meds, “Thank you, doctor.”

 

As soon as the door closed, John collapsed. Paul yelped in surprise, “Shit, John. Are you okay?” What a stupid question to ask.

 

John cleared his throat a few times before answering, “...no.”

 

Paul sighed and helped his friend up, “Let’s get you to the bed. And I'll grab your old glasses so you can actually see something.”

 

“Ooh, Paul...I, I di-didein’t knew…” He was unable to finish his taunt, the ringing in his ears was back. He was stumbling up the stairs.

 

Paul was angry at Brian. How dare he hurt his best friend! The two would have words as soon as John was feeling better.


End file.
